


Moments, False and True

by dancingdragon3



Series: No Words Required [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Humor, Melodrama, Pre-Canon, Pre-Femslash, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 02:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10688373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingdragon3/pseuds/dancingdragon3
Summary: Prompt: Madame Vastra and Jenny: their beginnings as a couple.Notes: I fear this may be a tad melodramatic, but it is Victorian romance :-) Influenced byTipping the Velvetby Sarah Waters.





	Moments, False and True

An old East End gin house was where Jenny first saw her. Thanks to a childhood learning to fight from six older brothers, her time on the streets hadn’t gone as badly as they should have. No respectable butcher would give her a job, but her ability to take down a drunken tom twice her size made her valuable at keeping the peace when it was Ladies’ Night in the backroom. Not that Jenny had seen many actual Ladies here at Harry’s. They usually kept to better rooms, in better houses. But even at a wealthy Sapphist club on the West Side, Jenny imagined the tall, smartly dressed woman would stand out, with or without the veil.

  
It was in Jenny’s imagination that their first meeting took place, in various scenarios she replayed over and over again, childish though they were - literally bumping into one another out in the world, with the Veiled Lady being so surprised and intrigued by how she looked in a dress, that she asked Jenny to accompany her to tea; or at the house, where Jenny was known as The Butcher’s Kid, rescuing the wealthy patron from some silly hedge muffer trying to sneak a peek under her covering.

In the middle of the night, when she lay alone in her narrow bed, thin sheet sticking to her in the summer’s heat, the mysterious woman would dare to ask for the _personal_ company of The Butcher’s Kid. Take her into her carriage, or even all the way to her home, and let Jenny be the one to take off that veil, or slip her hand under all those fine skirts.

The blush that rose on Jenny’s body then, had nothing to do with shame or the weather.

The one way she never imagined being introduced was in a dirty alleyway, after being saved from mechanical ruffians by the Lady herself. Or that the noble object of her passions would brandish a sword like...well, like nothing Jenny had ever seen. Or that under all that fine black lace lurked the guise of a snake in human form, a masterly countenance to match her voice, as breathtaking in its beauty as it was startling.

Yes, that was assuredly the most surprising revelation. Much more than the supernatural being real. Jenny spent so many hours that night imagining what the Lady’s scaly skin and that...that flashing tongue would feel like, that it was hopeless trying to keep her cheeks from reddening when Madame Vastra asked for a private word the next night at work.

Beneath her low-slung chignon, the back of her neck grew hot and prickly when the Lady accepted her arm. Jenny escorted her to her carriage feeling like a proper gentleman, despite her course togs, or what wasn’t inside them.

The carriage seemed a cozy hiding place from the grime and bustle outside. Behind green paisley curtains, sharing the same bench seat, the same breath, Jenny thought surely the Lady could hear the fierce pounding in her breast. The long anticipated job offer, however, when it was finally made, was not at all what Jenny dreamed about.

“You sure you want my protection, Ma’am? After my poor showing last night, that is.”

“You haven’t spoken to anyone about that, have you?” In the dim interior, Madame only looked mildly worried at the prospect.

“What do you imagine I’d say, eh? That men made from...rubber and clockworks attacked me, only some...mentalist sorted them with his magic wand?”

“That might be met with skepticism.” Madame Vastra’s smile seemed warm and intimate with the secret they shared,

“Maybe just a mite.” Jenny’s laugh came out high and nervous.

Madame Vastra tilted her head to the side, nostrils giving a slight flare. “And perhaps this job is a mite much to ask? I understand if you -”

“No -” Jenny grabbed her arm, then just as quick, let go as if it were on fire. “No, Ma’am. I’d very much like to be your guardsman. You can rely on me. I won’t be caught nappin’ again, I swear.”

“I shall hold you to that. And perhaps to the public, you can be known simply as my maid?” The gentle tone took away much of the sting.

“As you say, Ma’am, of course. _Your_ maid.” She held her singlestick aloft. “Guardsmaid," she mumbled.

  
Over a week passed of slogging through shadowy parks, stinking tenements, and more dirty alleyways, but Jenny hoped it never ended. Dogging the heels of whom she now knew to be a supernatural detective of sorts was thrilling. Then the lark ended, and the real adventure began.

It was a dock side squirmish with eel-men (not actual eel-men, but real, live part-man, part-eel people!) and Madame was knocked unconscious in the fray. Confronted with the unthinkable, Jenny found a strength she didn’t know she possessed. Switching her singlestick to her left hand, she took up Madame’s blade and faced their enemies.

The expression of amazement and desire on Madame’s face when she came to and spied the bodies, the blood on the sword now held in Jenny’s trembling hand, caused the whole world to shake. Ground became sky. Night became day. Jenny’s insides, her heart, her mind, her guts, all on the outside, exposed and naked to reptilian eyes.

Leather covered fingers stroked against her own as Madame took back her sword. “Well done, my dear. We shall need to find one of your own. If you wish.”

Taking a shaky breath, Jenny clutched her club to her breast and nodded. “I would very much like that, Ma’am. Would you teach me?”

“Have you any idea of all I could teach you?” Instantly, Madame appeared to regret her boldness.

Later, Jenny would curse her stupid mouth for interrupting the mood. “You know where I work, yet can still ask me that?” She drew back in insult.

“You are so young, my dear...” Madame looked again to the bodies and shook her head. “No, I fear, perhaps, I am the one too old.”

Jenny’s heart seemed to jump and stutter at the longing she heard. “Or perhaps, we’re both exactly the right age to teach...and learn...all sorts of things from one another, Ma’am.”

Madame studied her intently, leaning closer. “Do you truly believe that, Jenny?”

“Oh, yes. Ma’am. Very much so.” Her own voice sounded breathy and gushing, but she couldn’t care, not with that beloved face so close to her own.

“In that case, would it be a terrible imposition to ask you to make use of your butcher’s skill on these men?”

“Pardon, Ma’am?”

“You know, butchering, filleting these men into dinner sized portions, and doing away with the extra bits.”

“I - um,” Jenny blinked between her and the bodies that had already been stinking when alive. The request was put in the most shockingly reasonable tone. “I suppose I could do that.” She had been around the rough crowd long enough to know a test when it was given her. “Did you need me to flour and fry them up, as well? Or perhaps Madame prefers a creamed soup?”

Madame’s smile was wide and real, though she tried to sober when she took Jenny’s chin in a light embrace. “I usually prefer my meat tartare, but I’m always open to variety. I have heard it said that new tastes...” here, she glanced at Jenny’s mouth, “and experiences keeps one young.”

Jenny licked her dry lips. “Then I shall endeavor to always keep you supplied with fresh experiences, Ma’am. And new things to eat.”

Madame gasped, but her eyes sparkled with shared mischief. “Cheeky! Jenny, you shock me.”

Jenny laughed with an openness she hadn’t known for years. “Is that the first falsehood you’ve said to me then, Ma’am?”

“I believe it is, my dear. Hmm.” Her intrigued gaze held Jenny’s for a moment more, before moving to the eel-men. She sighed. “Shall we, then?”

“No use waiting for ’em to start walking again.” At Madame’s startled glance, Jenny shrugged. “Just something my da’ used to say.”

“Well, I suppose I should warn you now, that your father's proverb will not be applicable to every situation.”

A long moment went by, then Jenny closed her mouth and nodded. "I shall make a note of that, Ma'am."


End file.
